


Darkroom 01 - Big Daddy  & The Boys

by Soledad



Series: The Darkroom of Atlantis [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Dom/sub relationship, M/M, Multi, Survivor Guilt, The Corps Is Father, UST - Not So Unresolved Anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 18:00:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7724308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soledad/pseuds/Soledad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of "Siege", Jamie Markham learns the lesson of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Big Daddy and the Boys

**Author's Note:**

> As you can see, I’ve gone pretty AU in some parts already. The backgrounds of the guys have been made up by me and have nothing to do with canon. The ‘horse salve’ actually does exist, and it’s a blessing for sore muscles. The best version of it produced by a local vet where I live, but people buy it for themselves in great quantities.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
**BIG DADDY AND THE BOYS**

The fact that Sergeant Stackhouse was the partner of Sergeant Bates in a very special relationship was one of the best-guarded secrets of Atlantis. For the world, they were friends, comrades-in-arms, who fought side by side and led their respective teams on off-world missions in friendly competition (with Bates being better at building diplomatic relationships and Stackhouse better at trade). They also hung out a great deal in their spare time, often with Sergeant Markham in tow, who had been Stackhouse’s friend for longer than they cared to count.

In certain nights, however, Sergeant Michael Eugene Bates was the Big Daddy, the Master, clad sparely in leather and wielding the cane, the paddle or the whip, and Sergeant Adam Stackhouse was his boy slave. Or that would have been the impression, had any outsiders been allowed to take a look at their relationship. But not even Jamie Markham was privy to those secrets. Not yet, anyway.

The truth, as so often, was completely different.

The two had discovered their mutual interest in leather, spanking and dominance games rather by accident, while stationed in the Netherlands, where nobody cared what soldiers were doing while off-duty. Not as long as they were able to keep their interests from their COs, that is. Soon after their first chance encounter in a fetish club, it turned out that Gene was very sexually dominant, while Adam had a tendency to be submissive and got off on being spanked. As Gene found Adam’s well-shaped, fleshy bottom almost irresistible, the foundation of a very satisfying partnership had been laid.

Among other things, as Adam liked to add, since _he_ got laid on a regular basis from that day on. And tied up and spanked to his guilty pleasure. Gene was a very… imaginative partner. And the best part of all was that there were no strings attached. They satisfied a mutual need, without all that emotional drama that so often destroyed promising relationships. They were not in love. But they could give each other what they couldn’t get from other potential partners and - occasionally - they even lusted after each other.

They couldn’t indulge in their favourite pastime on Antarctica, of course. It had been a _very_ small outpost, with no privacy at all. It had been beyond frustrating. They’d tried to get together in the abandoned areas of Atlantis since their arrival, but that wasn’t easy, either. So, the offer of Dr. Zelenka to use the _Darkroom_ came close to salvation for them.

Bates was all too happy to introduce a carefully selected clientele to bondage and discipline games in exchange, with the support of Dr. Kusanagi, for whom he’d developed a healthy respect during their shared sessions. Those sessions had become surprisingly popular, in no time at all. Although, considering the amount of fear, guilt and frustration the expedition members had to face on a daily basis, it perhaps shouldn’t have surprised him. Bondage and discipline, as he knew it from personal experience, was a great way to deal with those things. Bates had given himself into Dr. Kusanagi’s hands repeatedly, after recovering from the injuries he’d received during the siege.

A lot of things had happened during his recovery. For starters, Jamie Markham, whose loss had devastated his Adam beyond comfort, had been found on the mainland. Apparently, he’d managed to escape from the destroyed jumper and been washed ashore. After weeks spent in solitude – and half-starved – Athosian hunters found him and took him back to their settlement.

By now, Jamie was almost his old self again, save those haunted eyes, and Bates realized something that had been right before his eyes all the time: that Adam and Jamie were more than just friends. Based on what Adam had told him about their shared youth, they probably hadn’t even realized it yet, but Bates could almost physically feel the tension crackling between them.

That was not good. Unresolved sexual tension could lead to distraction, which Marines – especially team leaders – couldn’t afford. It could get them killed. It could get the entire team killed. As neither Adam, nor Jamie showed any signs of facing the situation, Bates decided to take things into his own hands.

 *** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ***  
“It’s glaringly obvious that the two of you have the hots for each other,” he told Adam in his customary blunt manner, “and I’m not averse to sharing. But will he ever be comfortable in a threesome relationship? Especially one like ours?”

“I have no idea,” the younger man admitted. “I don’t even know whether he’s interested in men at all.”

“He might not be interested in men in general, but he’s most definitely interested in _you_ ,” Bates smiled darkly, rubbing a hand against Adam’s package through the rough fabric of his fatigues. “I’ve caught him… salute to you with Jamie Jr. more than once.”

Adam groaned and pushed his crotch against Gene’s palm, imagining how different Jamie’s touch on him would be. Gentler, more hesitant… but probably willing enough to experiment. Jamie had never gotten to reciprocate at that only time in Iraq…

“So,” Gene said, nuzzling Adam’s neck and grinding his own hardness into Adam’s behind, while still massaging his crotch, “what do you think about a direct approach?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
Sergeant Jamie Markham was dying with curiosity as he entered the transporter to go to the _Pegasus Bar_ , as Atlantis’ only entertainment facility had been christened by the fairly unimaginative Colonel Sheppard. There were almost two weeks left till the next _Themenabend_ and six days till the next simple dancing event, so why would Adam want him to go there? And why the secrecy? The only so-called secret in Atlantis was Dr. Zelenka’s illegal distillery, and everyone knew that it was _not_ located in that area. Granted, the still changed locations frequently and in irregular intervals, but somehow most people seemed to know where it could be found at any given time.

Especially when said people happened to be on good terms with the head of security. Who found booze – even Dr. Zelenka’s hideous moonshine – good for the morale and therefore tolerated the illegal operation, pretending not to know about it at all.

‘Most people’ didn’t include Dr. Weir or Colonel Sheppard, or that unpleasant hard-ass, Colonel Caldwell, but Bates didn’t seem to find that a problem. It was enough that he knew, as he took his duties very seriously. A good security chief always had to know about everything that was going on in Atlantis, but he also had to know when to look away. And what Bates knew, Adam seemed to know, too. And Adam always told Jamie everything.

At least that was what Jamie had thought to the current day. Leaving the transporter right opposite the _Pegasus Bar_ , he didn’t know yet that this optimistic assumption was about to get shattered into a million tiny pieces.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
As instructed, he tentatively touched the newly installed door mechanism. Stacks had told him that merely having the gene wouldn’t help here. The electronic lock stored fingerprints and only allowed entry to people who had been previously approved by the mysterious organisers. Stacks had also emphasized that they only were here due to the generosity of the geeks, and the whole thing would be closed, should he utter as much as a word to the wrong person.

He did understand part of the secrecy. He knew Stacks was bi, with a definite preference for his own gender – he’d known that during their youth already, but had kept his friend’s secret from everyone. He considered himself straight, as he found he was into women, as rarely as the occasion presented itself in the unwelcoming places he’d been stationed so far.

However there had been that one time in Iraq, when he’d accepted Stacks’ wordless offer to jerk him off, under the mantle of darkness in an abandoned guardroom, but they’d never speak about it again. And that was good so. One didn’t remember the firm, expert touch of his best friend on one’s private parts on lonely nights. Not even if one caught the one or other speculative look of said good friend sometimes. He’d put that memory firmly back in a dark, hidden place of his mind, and their relationship had continued the way it used to be all the time.

He wondered whether Stacks intended to change that. He could at least understand the reason for it. After all, they were cut off Earth, a small community with half as many women as men, and as for his part, _all_ of the women were older or better educated than he was, or wore a higher rank. He was the baby of Atlantis, just as Lt. Ford had been. Only that Lt. Ford had had the privileges of rank, which had given him a bit more self-confidence.

Before he got turned into a Wraith enzyme junkie, that is.

The door opened, and Jamie very nearly backed off. The Stacks who welcomed him on the dimly lit dance floor was practically naked – well, save the black leather harness covering his crotch… barely. He also wore a black leather collar, studded with little silver nails, and a mask that covered the upper half of his face.

Okay, Stacks _had_ told him that this would be a leather party, but he’d _not_ said that there would be so _little_ leather involved. In his leather pants and jacket Jamie felt seriously overdressed, and that made him nervous. Well, not the idea that he’d be wearing too much, himself, but the question just how little the other guests would be wearing… and who they were.

Although he had to admit that Stacks did have a very nice ass (not that he’d be interested in men’s backsides, mind you). And the leather harness emphasized the firm globes to the best advantage. Nice chest, too… broad and smooth, crisscrossed by another set of studded leather straps, and were those nipple clamps? Jamie winced in sympathy, although Stacks didn’t seem to mind them. He gave Jamie a rarely seen smile: one that was slow and sweet and just this side of sultry. One that he never flashed at anyone else.

“Hello, Jamie,” he said, grabbing Jamie’s belt, yanking him close, so that the door could snap closed, and kissing him soundly on the mouth. “Glad you could make it.”

Out of sheer mortification, Jamie forgot to even protest, giving in to the demanding tongue, allowing Stacks to perform a thorough tonsil examination on him. Certain parts of his anatomy twitched in delight and in growing interest, and before he knew, he was rubbing aforementioned parts against Stacks’ leather-covered crotch shamelessly.

“Boys, boys,” a shockingly familiar voice chided, “What did I say about starting without me?”

Stacks let go of him immediately and lowered his head.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he said apologetically.

His kiss-swollen mouth moist and agape, Jamie watched in shock as Gunnery Sergeant Michael Eugene Bates walked out from one of the adjoining rooms, clad in a similar attire as Stacks, sans the collar. Instead, he had a wicked-looking tawse hanging from his harness, and a paddle in his hand. Also, his leathers were not black but dark red, contrasting nicely with his smooth, sleek, mahogany-coloured body.

He was a feast for sore eyes, and so different from his everyday persona that Jamie seriously asked himself in which alternate reality had he landed.

“You keep forgetting yourself when it comes to your little buddy, Adam,” Bates said in the same calm, lecturing tone he used when dressing down his men. “I can see why; he’s so very pretty, and eminently fuckable.” Jamie blushed furiously, but Bates ignored him, addressing his words to Stacks alone. “However, you know well enough that I can’t tolerate any trespassing, boy. You’ll be punished.”

“Yes, sir,” Stacks murmured, his eyes downcast.

“I’m gonna shackle you to the bench and paddle your ass in front of your little buddy,” Bates continued calmly, as if he would be discussing duty plans for the next day. “You do understand why I have to do that, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” Stacks usually didn’t blush as easily as Jamie did. Right now, though, they both were beet red.

“Explain it to your buddy, then, so that he’d understand, too,” Bates ordered.

Still red-faced, Stacks turned to Jamie. “He told me not to jump your bones as soon as you came into visual range, but I forgot all about it when I got a glimpse of you in those leader pants. You’re just too damn adorable.”

Under normal circumstances, calling someone adorable would earn the offender a broken nose among big, bad-ass Marines. Under normal circumstances, baby-faced Jamie Markham would have hit anyone who called him adorable, and hit them hard. He wanted to be tough and manly, not adorable. Puppies were adorable. Tough, gung-ho Marines were not, and his appearance had gotten him into really bad fights a few times.

Fortunately, he had a mean left hook. And he had Stacks to watch his six.

Now, however, seeing the hopeless affection on his best friend’s face, he found he could tolerate being called adorable. This _one_ time, mind you.

“B-but he’s not your CO,” he said to Stacks. “Why should he get to tell you what to do and what to leave alone?”

“He’s my master,” Stacks stated simply.

“Your… _what_?” Jamie stuttered.

Stacks was silent for a moment, trying to order his thoughts, like always when he was about to launch a longer speech. Longer for him, that is. Unlike Jamie, he was a man of few words and many deeds. That was why they’d complemented each other so well since junior high, despite their different natures.

“You know I had a very strict father, right?” he finally asked.

Of course Jamie knew. Up to his sixteenth year, he’d lived in mortal fear from Master Sergeant Derek Stackhouse. He knew that the Master Sergeant had laid down strict rules for his progeny, and when they overstepped those boundaries, he’d take it out on their asses.

But he also knew that Stackhouse Sr. never hit his kids in the face or everywhere else. He'd never mete out punishment when he was angry, and once it was over, the whole issue was over for good. It was never brought up again. And despite his sometimes sore backside, Stacks had always admired his father. Looked up to him, not with fear but with love and respect.

It had been no surprise for anyone that Stacks went to the Marine Corps after graduating. His father had died during his last year at school, and he had two younger brothers whom his mother had to raise yet. They needed the money, as simple as that, especially as the oldest sister had still been at college. But Jamie always suspected that Stacks needed the strict rules of the Marine Corps as a substitute for his father’s strictness. He positively thrived in the Corps and had become the youngest Sergeant ever, with severe responsibilities.

“When Dad died, I was kinda floating,” Stacks continued, as if reading Jamie’s thoughts. “I needed rules, a clear structure. The Corps gave me that. I was a bit surprised when you followed me, though,” he added with a smile.

Jamie grinned in embarrassment. True enough, he’d followed Stacks to the Corps at the tender age of sixteen, even hunting down his never-before-seen father to get a written declaration of parental agreement. Mrs. Markham, divorced and way too soft-handed for her son’s good, would never have allowed her only child to become a Marine. She’d wanted him to go to college – Jamie was really good at maths and other science subjects. To have a nice, safe job, preferably somewhere near her, a family, children… 

But Jamie had had enough of being Momma’s baby, as he often had been called in high school. He’d wanted to be like Stacks, his three years older friend, who’d often protected him from the school bullies and taught him how to fight to protect himself, as if he’d been the big brother Jamie never had. So, when Stacks had chosen the Marine Corps, Jamie simply followed him, as he’d always done. He’d always needed Stacks to give him direction, and he suspected that he always would.

That was why Stacks was a team leader in Iraq, and later in Atlantis, and Jamie was a mere pilot and technical expert. With a highly functional, natural ATA-gene, mind you, while Stacks’ artificial one was barely good enough to operate the simplest pieces of equipment. That was why Jamie got to fly puddle jumpers, while Stacks led the missions.

They’d always complemented each other so well.

“Being in command doesn’t come to me easily,” Stacks was saying, and Jamie realized with a jolt of guilt that his friend must have been speaking all the time, he just hadn’t been paying attention. “I’m much better at following orders than at giving them. Making life-and-death decisions all the time takes out a lot of me. I couldn’t deal with it on my own.”

“You’re not on your own!” Jamie protested. “I’ve always been here for you… and always will.”

“I know,” Stacks flicked a questioning look at Bates, and at the older man’s slight nod, he leaned over and kissed Jamie on the mouth, lightly this time. “But let’s face it, Jamie; you need me to be strong for you. The one you can lean on to keep going.”

“That’s not true!” Jamie protested angrily. It _was_ true to a certain extent, of course, but he wasn’t going to admit it in front of Bates. “I’m not a baby! I’ve gone on missions without you and done well enough! I survived on the mainland alone, for weeks! Don’t you dare patronizing me! I’m a grown man, too.”

“Of course you are,” Stacks soothed, while Bates was watching their interaction with clinical interest. “Needing someone doesn’t mean that you’re a baby. I don’t feel less of a man for needing Gene,” he smiled at Bates, who smiled back. Jamie’s face fell.

“What do you need _me_ for, if you can have him?” he asked, his misery obvious. Stacks swatted his ass.

“Don’t be an idiot, Jamie! Yes, Gene can give me something you can’t, but you’re still my best friends, and I still love you. And lately, I began to realize t hat I love you in other ways than I’d love a friend or a little brother.”

“You do?” Jamie didn’t know whether to be shocked or flattered. Seeking sexual relief with the help of a friend was one thing. Starting a relationship with said friend – one that obviously wouldn’t be an exclusive one and that needed to be kept a secret – was a very different issue.

Stacks nodded. “Yeah, I do. I’ve got you on my mind all the time. And that might get both of us killed.

“And so you decided that we should have sex to ease that tension?” Jamie asked sarcastically, his cheeks hot. This was _so_ not happening! They were _not_ discussing having sex, with Stacks practically naked, and Bates watching them!

Only that they were. And deep within, he knew it was inevitable. He’d noticed that Stacks hadn’t been properly focused lately. And he knew a team leader couldn’t afford that. Well, if offering up his ass to his best friend could save their lives…

But he also knew that there was more. He’d had a crush on Stacks since junior high, despite the fact that his few sex partners – he wouldn’t call them lovers – had all been women, so far. None of them was the sort he’d return to for a second time, either.

He wasn’t gay, most likely not even bi. Of that, he was fairly sure. But he loved Stacks. Had loved him, one way or another, since their teenage years. And he knew Stacks would never hurt him. That one time in Iraq had been so hot, the firm hand of Stacks on his dick had felt so good, he’d had wet dreams about it for weeks afterwards. He could do this for Stacks… and just a little for himself, too, perhaps.

The silence made him realize that Stacks had stopped speaking.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was a bit… distracted. By memories of Iraq,” he added, blushing furiously.

Bates raised an eyebrow.

“Memories of Iraq? Boy, was there something you haven’t told me yet?” he asked Stacks.

“Nothing,” Stacks answered hurriedly. “Just two buddies helping each other when no girls were available.”

Bates shook his head and sighed, shaking of his Leather Daddy persona. “Adam, this isn’t gonna work when you’re not honest with me.”

“I am!” Stacks protested.

“No, you’re not,” Bates interrupted. “I asked you if you’ve fucked Jamie, and you said no. Technically, that may be true. But you _did_ have sex with him, even if it was only a hand job. I can’t make this relationship work if you’re lying to me. You wanna end it?”

“No,” Stacks said, agitated. “You know I need this. I won’t last a day here alone. Please, don’t send me away!”

Bates thought about it for what seemed an inappropriately long time for Jamie. But again, who was he to judge about this strange… thing between the other two men? He couldn’t even try to understand the depths of it.

And that made him unexpectedly jealous. Also frightened the shit out of him.

“All right,” Bates finally said, and Stacks visibly deflated from relief. “But we’re gonna have to redefine the rules for this to work. And I’ll have to punish you for misleading me. You know that.”

Stacks nodded mutely.

“It’s gonna be a long and hard punishment,” Bates warned him. “You’re gonna hurt like a bitch afterwards, for quite some time. You’ve violated the basic rule of this relationship, and I can’t and won’t go easy on you.”

“I know,” Stacks murmured. “I’m sorry.”

“Not as sorry as you’re gonna be, once I’m done with you,” Bates replied darkly. Then he looked at Jamie. “I want you to watch.

“What?” Jamie burst out in shock.

“If you wanna enter any sort of relationship with Adam, you need to understand how things work between him and me,” Bates said.

“What’s there to understand?” Jamie snapped. “He has to do all that you tell him to do, and you beat him up when he doesn’t.”

“No,” Stacks said, “that’s not what this is about, Jamie. Not at all.”

“Then what is this about?” Jamie demanded.

“It’s all about trust,” Bates said. “Adam’s given himself into my keeping, in everything that’s _not_ related to duty, in order to be able to focus on his duty. I tell him what to do, when to do it and how to do it, in all other things, because he entrusted me with those decisions. He trusts me to know what’s best for him, and to lead him accordingly. But I can’t do it if he keeps important things from me.”

“Jerking me off in a stinky barrack in Iraq is such an important thing?” Jamie asked incredulously.

“No,” Bates said, his eyes deadly serious. “ _You’re_ important. For him, probably the most important person in his life, aside from his family. I don’t care about his chance encounters in men’s rooms. Our relationship isn’t primarily about sex, and neither of us is monogamous. Most men aren’t, it’s not in the male nature, and if women could accept it, they’d spare themselves a great deal of unhappiness. In any case, I don’t need to keep book about the people Adam might fuck, as long as he does it safely. But I need to know these things concerning _you_ , because you play a central role in his thoughts and feelings. Do you understand what I mean?”

“I… I think I’m beginning to understand,” Jamie muttered, wondering where Bates, a simple Marine Sergeant, had achieved such wisdom concerning human nature. The man certainly played the stubborn, paranoid, by-the-book foot soldier very convincingly.

Bates seemed to guess what was going on in Jamie’s head because he shrugged.

“Officers don’t like when people like me are smart,” he stated. “They want us to be dumb and obedient. But I wouldn’t have survived in our neighbourhood in LA if I had been dumb. I was good at school, too, and had I come from a different family, I might have gone to college, eventually. It wasn’t meant to happen; we lost our parents early, and I had to care for my kid brother. The Corps gave me the means to do that. But one doesn’t have to stay undereducated. There are such things as books and online courses, you know.”

“Kinda hard when you’re in the front line,” Jamie murmured, feeling a little guilty for never having done more than finishing high school and achieving his pilot’s licence with the Corps’ help.

Bates gave him a stern, disappointed look.

“There’s always a way for the willing. And you haven’t been in the front line all the time,” he said. “It seems to me that you’d benefit from a caretaker with a strong hand even more than Adam does. You’re said to be a smart kid, but you’re wasting your talents.”

“If you think I’m gonna let you beat me up, you’re crazy,” Jamie said. His mother hadn’t believed in corporal punishment – in fact, she’d said it was barbaric – and he felt no desire whatsoever to walk down that _path_.

“I don’t beat Adam up,” Bates corrected. “I mete out punishment, according to his respective failings, so that he can put that behind him. Or I’d spank his ass because he happens to like it. Some people get off on that, and he is one of those people. It’s all very consensual, but you’re not gonna understand it until you see it for yourself. That’s why I want you to watch.”

Jamie looked at his friend questioningly. Stacks nodded.

“He’s right, Jamie. You need to see this. I’d even go as far as to say that you should try it, but that’s not my decision to make.”

“Oh, all right,” Jamie gave in with exasperation. “I’ll watch!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
They took him into an adjoining room that looked fairly harmless at first sight. Just a room with sparse furniture, in dark leather. But then Bates adjusted Dr. Beckett’s discarded examination table (Jamie knew that particular piece, he’d been hired by the good doctor to drag it through the Stargate and had been a bit peeved to learn that it would never be used for its actual purpose) so that it stood in about forty-five degrees. Stacks lay on it, on his belly, while Bates snapped the shackles that had apparently been applied to the table somewhen (because Jamie knew they hadn’t originally been part of it) in place. Stacks was now laying spread-eagled, the broad expanse of his back and his nice, round ass completely exposed, save from the thin leather straps of the harness running between the slightly quivering, pale buttocks.

“This is gonna be a serious punishment,” Bates declared, “delivered in two sessions. I’m gonna warm up your ass with the paddle first – that will be for jumping Jamie’s bones as soon as he arrived. _Then_ I’m gonna take the tawse and tan your hide thoroughly. You need to learn that violating the trust between us is just _not_ acceptable. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Stacks answered in a somewhat muffled voice.

Bates whacked the smooth, hard paddle experimentally against his palm. It made a loud thud, and Stacks twitched involuntarily at the noise. Bates _tsk tsk_ -ed warningly, and – to Jamie’s surprise – began to stroke Stack’s back, lightly massaging the nape of his neck and his shoulders first, then dragging his palms along the outstretched arms, down the long line of the back and then tracing the buttocks.

After that, he laid the paddle lightly against Stacks’ bare ass, almost caressingly – then pulled it back and smacked down with a firm, hard slap. It cracked loudly when impacting on bare flesh, and Stacks twitched again. Jamie admired his friend’s self-discipline – he’d have jumped as far as the shackles allowed, from such a hard impact. But again, Stacks _did_ have ample experience in this field.

Bates laid his free hand lightly against Stack’s waist to keep him still, and then set about it in earnest. Every stroke hit home precisely where it was meant to hit, leaving red marks all over Stacks’ bottom, marks that had been replaced with a new one before they could have the chance to fade even a bit. Stacks endured it stoically, only his breathing did become harsh after a while, and he couldn’t hold back the one or other grunt when at the one or other particularly hard slap. He tried not to wiggle, knowing that it would only make things worse, but didn’t always succeed. Bates had a very hard hand, and after a while, he just couldn’t help shaking under the hand resting on his back.

Bates took that as a sign to finish the first part of his punishment.

“Let’s have a break,” he said, examining his handiwork. Stack’s backside was red and looked pretty sore, but Bates knew that so far it hadn’t hurt him more than one of their kinky sessions, to which Adam always came eagerly and voluntarily. “That was for disobeying me today. But I’ll have to punish you for lying to me earlier, and _that’s_ gonna be very hard.”

Stacks nodded as well as he could in his awkward position, signalling that he’d understood and accepted the reasons. Bates stroked along his arms, neck, shoulders, back and buttocks again, and then he picked up the tawse. It was a wicked-looking instrument: basically, a strap of thick, hard leather, frayed halfway down to the middle to provide several tails.

Once again, he put his free hand on the small of Stacks’ back and cracked the tawse down firmly on his ass. Stacks grunted in pain and buckled in his restrains, and Jamie jumped in sympathy, imagining how much it had to hurt his already sore bottom. Bates’ eyes narrowed, and he brought the tawse down again and again, keeping an even pace, his arm moving with precision, smacking down hard enough for the slaps to hurt like hell but not hard enough to break the skin. It was punishment, not torture, after all.

Finally, when he judged that it had been just about as much as Adam could take and still perform his duties on the next day, he slowed down, until he stopped altogether. By then, Stacks’ bottom was bright red like a ripe tomato and his face streaked with tears. Knowing how hard Stacks was in taking punishment (due to all that experience with his father) Jamie’s heart went out to him. That must have really hurt.

“He won’t be able to sit properly for days,” Jamie said accusingly.

“That’s why it’s called punishment,” Bates pointed out. “But I don’t want him to be unfit for duty, so we’ll take care of him now. Adam, get that horse salve!”

Released from his restrains, Stacks fetched a small jar from a cleverly hidden locker and offered it to Bates, flashing Jamie a somewhat shaky smile. Bates sat down on the local equivalent of a leather sofa (beautiful Athosian craftsmanship, by the way, ordered by Dr. Kavanagh who had a thing for pretty furniture), and patted his knees.

“Remove the harness and bend over my knee, Adam.”

“I know the routine,” Stacks mumbled darkly. For some reason, what was about to come seemed to embarrass him more than the spanking he’d just received.

That earned him a sharp smack on his already abused ass, and he yelped in pain.

“You might know the routine, but Jamie doesn’t,” Bates pointed out. “He needs to know what he’d be getting himself into, should he ever decide to enter a similar relationship with anyone.”

“I don’t feel really motivated right now,” Jamie muttered.

“You might surprise yourself, after you’ve seen the whole program,” Stacks grinned, carefully removing the harness, giving Jamie the first good look at his… _equipment_. He was as nicely built on the front as he was on the backside, and Jamie licked his lips involuntarily. Straight or not, nice equipment was nice equipment, and a guy could look, couldn’t he?

Bates arranged Stacks over his knees, putting said nice equipment safely out of the way between his slightly spread thighs, and ran an appreciative hand over the reddened buttocks. Stacks hissed, he must have been awfully sensitive after the severe beating he’d gotten, but didn’t protest.

“Come here, Jamie,” Bates ordered, and Jamie obeyed without thinking. You just didn’t argue with natural authority. Especially when said natural authority could wield instruments of punishment with such expertise.

Bates grabbed his wrist and put his hand on Stacks’ bare ass. “Can you feel how hot it is?”

Jamie nodded, trying not to fondle his friend’s nice, firm ass too obviously, because that would be _so_ wrong on _so_ many levels, not to mention embarrassing and whatnot. The abused skin was practically radiating heat, like an oven.

“We must cool it down a bit,” Bates continued, flipping the lid of the jar open. “Now, this is called ‘horse salve’,” he showed Jamie the almost electric blue, translucent gel. “It contains camphor oil and feels nicely cool to the touch. A friendly vet makes it for the strained muscles of race horses, but I found it very useful for human sores as well. It spreads very easily; a small dollop will be enough to cover his ass. Try to do it.”

“Me?” Jamie all but squealed.

Bates gave him a stern look. “You need to learn how to help him, in case I won’t be here anymore. There are other people who can imply punishment, but to let someone take care of you afterwards… for that, you need to trust that person. Adam trusts you, just as he trusts me… if not more. The question is: can you rise up to his trust?”

Jamie was still hesitating. Touching Stacks’ ass had been embarrassing enough, and the guilty pleasure he’d felt by doing so only made things worse…

“Look at it this way,” Bates said. “If he were wounded, would you hesitate to treat his injuries?”

“Of course not!” Jamie snapped indignantly. Bates nodded.

“Well, he’s hurting now. You have the means to help him. Would you rather let him suffer?”

He offered the jar to Jamie. Slowly, hesitantly, Jamie dipped two fingers into the slick blue gel. It felt cool to the touch, indeed, and he tried awkwardly to apply it to Stacks’ reddened buttocks. The gel spread easily, making his hand slide lightly over the hot skin, tracing the curves, from the crease where the thighs met the lover swell of the bottom up to the twin dimples just where the cleft began.

The sight was strangely erotic, and the movements had an almost mesmerising effect, so that he nearly jumped when Bates laid a large, dark hand over his smaller one and directed his fingers right onto the cleft. He’d never touched another man there – or a woman, for that matter – and when his fingertips fluttered over the tightly furled opening of his friend’s body, his hands began to tremble.

“Pull apart his cheeks,” Bates instructed quietly.

“W-what?” Jamie thought he wasn’t hearing right.

“He was wriggling a lot,” Bates explained calmly. “The straps of the harness chafe. He might be roughed up in the cleft. You must check it and treat it, if necessary.”

“No. Nonono, I can’t do that!” Jamie protested. Staring at the asshole of one’s best friend was _really_ way beyond being helpful. He was straight. Straight guys didn’t do such things.

“Yes, you can,” Bates replied calmly. “You _must_ , because I won’t do it. You’ve accepted the task of taking care of him this time, now you must go all the way. He needs to be checked and treated.”

His face bright red – even more so than his friend’s severely beaten ass – Jamie did as he’d been told. He couldn’t go all girly on Stacks and let his friend suffer right now. So he found himself staring at his best friend’s asshole indeed, which was gross. And ridiculous. And embarrassing. And did he mention gross?

Why, then, did his dick find the sight so… stimulating? So stimulating that his leather pants had become uncomfortably tight? It was official now – he was a perv. Or, at the very least, his dick was.

The leather straps had really chafed Stacks’ cleft quite a bit, and now Jamie had to treat his best friend _there_. The gross factor notched up several degrees, although Stacks was surprisingly warm and velvety to the touch _there_ , and fortunately, he also believed in cleanliness. So, in the end, it wasn’t all that bad. Well, it _was_ , but Jamie found that he could deal with it without dying from embarrassment on the spot.

“That’s enough,” Bates said. “Get up, Adam, and bend over the back of the sofa!”

“You aren’t beating him again, are you?” Jamie asked anxiously. Bates flashed him a predatory grin.

“Nah, I’m gonna fuck him now.”

Jamie backed off several steps. “Okay, that’s it. I’m leaving. I’m so not gonna watch _that_!”

“Sure you are,” Bates replied calmly. “I know you have the hots for each other, and I’m cool with that, but Adam needs a reminder of who owns his ass – which would be me.”

“In that case you surely don’t need _me_ to assist,” Jamie said testily. Bates nodded.

“You’re right, I don’t. But Adam does. I’m willing to let him fool around with you, but he’s _mine_. On his own volition. He’s forgotten himself twice already, because of you. He needs to push things into the right perspective again. Adam, I don’t wanna tell you again what to do,” he added, with a slight edge in his voice.

Stacks got to his feet hurriedly, and Jamie saw with a slight hint of jealousy that he wasn’t adverse to the idea of getting his rear end stuffed by Bates. If his hard dick, jutting out from the thatch of dark curls in a ridiculous angle, was any indication, he was positively eager to take it up his ass. He bent over the back of the sofa, legs slightly spread, offering himself to his master.

Bates fetched a bottle from the same locker the ‘horse salve’ had come from, and coated his fingers with some clear, viscous fluid.

“Massage oil?” Jamie guessed vaguely, watching with morbid fascination those slick, dark fingers forcing themselves up his best friend’s body. Bates nodded, but his focus was clearly on his task now, so Jamie decided to shut up.

Stacks groaned and spread his legs wider, apparently enjoying the intrusion. Jamie wasn’t completely naïve, nor a complete ignorant when it came to anal stimulation. He knew it felt good, he even fingered himself sometimes to get his rocks off faster. But watching his best friend being prepared to be fucked by another man was so wrong on so many levels he didn’t even dare to count.

Still, he couldn’t look away. Stacks groaned again and grimaced in pain when Bates pushed all the way into him. Soon enough, however, he began to move with the merciless thrusts, his head thrown back, his mouth agape, his eyes wide and glassy, a thin film of sweat covering his entire body, which was glistening and flushed and naked…

Jamie had never found him more beautiful. Nor had he felt sadder than in this very moment.

Bates and Stacks complemented each other in a way he and Stacks never had. Like that Chinese symbol, yin and yang, light and dark, slave and master. Jamie began to wonder if there would be any room for him. Why would Stacks need him when he could have _this_ with Bates? What could _he_ offer to Stacks? He wasn’t even gay, how would he ever be able to satisfy Stacks’ very specific needs, of which he hadn’t even known, despite more than a decade of friendship?

But then, amidst of the throes of passion, Stacks unexpectedly looked at him and smiled. It was that sweet, private smile that belonged to Jamie alone, full of memories of a shared past. And Jamie knew that they would find a way, somehow. One that would be acceptable to all three of them.


	2. The Boys Get to Play

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
 **THE BOYS GET TO PLAY**

“Do you think we’ve shocked the shit out of the kid?” Gene asked, later in that evening. “We could have tried a more… careful approach.”

The two of them were resting in Adam’s quarters, enjoying the rest of their day off. It was so rare that their off-duty times would fall on the same day, so they wanted to make the best of it. The younger man was lying on his side to spare his abused behind, and Gene was gently stroking his flank. They might not be in love, but they had grown very fond of each other during the recent years.

Including Jamie into their relationship – assuming he could be persuaded into doing so – would mean major adjustments, not the least because of Adam’s feelings for him. So yes, they needed to discuss the possibilities.

“Nah, Jamie is resilient,” Adam replied lazily. “He might behave like a spoiled brat sometimes, but he’s tough.”

“I’ll have to take your word for that,” Gene said. “I haven’t seen him in combat situations yet.”

“He’s perhaps not as good at hand-to-hand combat as I am,” Adam replied, “but he’s a crack shot and has a knack for machines. His ATA-gene isn’t he only reason Dr. Z likes to work with him so much. He actually understands how some of the stuff in the jumpers works.”

“And his manners area a lot more pleasant about it than those of a certain colonel whom we’re not gonna name right now,” Gene added darkly. Adam glanced up into his face and smiled.

“You like Jamie, don’t you?” he asked, ignoring the jab against Colonel Sheppard. They were in complete agreement about _that_ topic. “You wanna extend your ownership over him, too?”

“That would be the best, yeah,” Gene shrugged. “Creating a chain of dependence wouldn’t be healthy for you. You’re not ready to take over responsibility for Jamie, and probably not gonna be for years to come yet. It would screw up _our_ relationship badly, if you were to play the part of he slave for me and that of the master for him.”

“Probably,” Adam allowed, knowing that Gene had a great deal more experience in these things than he had.

“Trust me; it would,” Gene said. “Besides, it won’t do the two of you any good to enter a relationship _not_ based on equality. You’ve been close friends for too long. Later on, he might accept your dominance over himself, but that would take years, if ever. He’d need a thorough training first.”

“Oh, I do agree,” Adam said. “But we can’t make him submit to you against his will, even though he’d benefit from it greatly.”

“He would?” Gene asked in amusement. He liked it when Adam took apart a problem and examined it from all sides. The young man had such a keen, analytical mind, that was what made him the excellent strategist he had become.

Adam nodded. “Sure. He never had a father or a proper male authority figure. Well, none, ruling out the drill sergeants in boot camp, which is not the same.”

“Nah, it’s not,” Gene agreed. "He’s done well enough, though, considering the circumstances.”

“Yeah,” Adam said. I’m very proud of him, actually. But I’m also worried a bit.”

“Oh?” Gene raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

“He hasn’t spoken about the whole issue yet,” Adam replied vaguely. But Gene knew that he meant the fact that Jamie had been shot into the ocean by a Wraith dart, spent at least a whole day drifting on the water, clinging to pieces of wrack, watched Smithy go insane from drinking sea water and dying, shortly after they’d been washed ashore.

“He never spoke about it?” he asked with a frown. “Not even to you?”

Adam shook his head. ”Nah, and that worries me. He needs to come to terms with Smithy’s death… among other things. I hope he’s gonna accept you as his caretaker. You’d be good for him.”

“Hmmm…” Gene laid his hand on Adam’s ass. It still felt hot, even through the fabric of his pants. “Are you okay with me fucking him? It _has_ to be done, in order to establish dominance, you know that.”

“I know,” Adam said. “If he’s okay with it, then so am I. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to have him first. To be his first man. Assuming he’ll ever be willing to experiment with… alternate lifestyles, that is.

“Oh, he will, don’t worry,” Gene said. “I saw him watching us… eyeing your body with definite hunger in his eyes. He’s more than ready to experiment, as long as it’s with you. “ He paused, before adding, “You _do_ realize, of course, that – should he really accept my dominance – you’re trespassing my territory with that request.”

“Of course,” Adam nodded. He’d asked for something that would be Gene’s privilege by the rules of their relationship, and he’d have to pay for that trespassing. But he wanted Jamie badly, and would do anything to be the first to have him.

“The price will be… high, this time,” Gene warned seriously.

“I know,” Adam said. “But it’ll be worth it.”

“Your choice,” Gene replied, kissing the top of his head. “I’m proud of you, Adam. You’ve done so well, come so far.”

“I’ve screwed up often enough,” Adam grinned, wriggling his ass suggestively.

“Yeah, but you’ve always been willing to pay the price,” Gene said. “And that’s what counts.”

They were silent for a while, Gene petting Adam’s sore bottom gently, and Adam hanging after his own thoughts.

“Can I ask you a question?” he said after a while.

He felt Gene’s chin press against the top of his head briefly, as the other man nodded.

“Sure. Can’t promise to answer, though.”

“Fair enough,” Adam paused for a moment. “What I’d like to know… you must have been trained very thoroughly in this Dom/Sub stuff to become such an expert, right?”

“I have,” Gene replied quietly. “I had a very experienced and talented master.”

“Who was he?” Adam asked. He was dying to know who’d moulded Gene to become such a strict taskmaster.”

“Normally, I wouldn’t answer that,” Gene said. “But since he’s dead and can’t be harmed by you knowing about it, I guess I can tell you.”

“ _Harmed_?” Adam riposted indignantly, while his mind was listing up possible candidates. “You know I wouldn’t out anyone like that!”

“Of course not,” Gene agreed. “But it’d have influenced your professional relationship with him, and that would have been dangerous.”

Hmmm. Another Marine, most likely. Adam kept listing their fallen comrades mentally – the number was depressingly high – and tired to select those Gene might have been willing to submit to.

In the end, only one name remained in his sieve. And considering barely recognizable signs in hindsight, it made great sense.

“ _Colonel Sumner_?” he asked incredulously. “You were the sub of _Colonel Sumner_?”

Gene nodded melancholically. “You know me too well already, Adam.”

Adam shook his head in disbelief. “I never guessed Sumner was gay.”

“He wasn’t,” Gene replied simply. “Having a master doesn’t automatically mean that you have sex with him. Or her. I don’t sleep with Dr. Kusanagi either.”

“But you fuck _me_ ,” Adam pointed out. “And you’ve just declared that you’re gonna fuck Jamie, if he joins our lifestyle. Why?”

“Because I _am_ gay, and you’re bi, and Jamie does have a hidden bi streak, too, even though he’s still firmly in denial,” Gene said. “And you’re both hot and cute. Each master makes his or her own rules. These are mine.”

“Does this mean I could have refused to have sex with you?” Adam asked.

“Not if you wanted to be in my care,” Gene said. Looking into Adam’s eyes searchingly, he asked, “Given the chance, would you have refused?”

“Of course not,” Adam laughed. “I’d be an idiot to do so. You’re dynamite in the sack.”

“So you know that I’d take good care of Jamie, right?” Gene asked. Adam nodded.

“Sure I know. I know you – and I trust you. But Jamie might need time to come to the same conclusion. Denial isn’t an easy thing to deal with.”

“And you’d know it… how exactly?” Gene inquired.

Adam laughed, because it was true. He was probably the person most honest with himself.

“ _Touché_ ,” he admitted. “I’ll leave Jamie to his own devices for a while, before confronting him with his own little secrets.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
Jamie was grateful that Stacks had allowed him to digest the whole thing for a while. It wasn’t easy to come to terms with the fact that one’s best friend had a hidden side one hadn’t discovered for a decade or so. He still didn’t know whether to be hurt, insulted or shocked, and it took him days before he would be ready to even face this new situation. 

He didn’t like drastic changes in the things he considered important in his life. His friendship with Stacks had been one of the very few constants, and now his entire world seemed to be shaken to the ground.

The trip to P3X-447 and the introduction of Ronon Dex – nicknamed Tarzan the Ape in Stacks’ team – to the community of Atlantis served for some welcome distraction. One could always trust the Pegasus-galaxy to confront them with unlikely situations that took their minds off their personal problems. But after the current crisis was over, Jamie knew they couldn’t avoid the serious talk any longer. The tension between the two of them had grown beyond tolerable levels.

Stacks, having a lot more experience with obfuscation, had simply invited Jamie to his quarters – in front of the entire team.

“Mom had sent Debbie’s wedding vid and a couple of photos of her baby,” he had said, “plus some home-made candies. We’re gonna have a nice evening… we’ve both deserved it.”

The rest of the team hadn’t found anything unusual in that. Hey all knew that Jamie and Stacks had been best buddies since the sandbox and that they sometimes needed time to hang out together, just the two of them, and talk about old times. Especially after Jamie’s supposed death and near-miraculous return.

They couldn’t know that they’d watched that vid and looked at those pictures a long time ago. Right after the _Daedalus_ ’ return from Earth, after the siege. The candy they hoarded carefully, as things like that still counted as currency in Atlantis, despite the now semi-regular supply line from home. Besides, everyone knew that Mrs. Stackhouse’s home-made candy was a rare delicacy.

They couldn’t know that tonight Jamie and Stacks will make a decision that’s gonna change their relationship forever – one way or another.

Jamie had never been so nervous in his life like in the very moment he knocked on Stacks’ door. He could have opened it mentally, of course – only Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Kusanagi could make the city cooperate faster and smother. But that would have been inappropriate, under any circumstances.

 _Especially_ now.

The door opened without those little jerking moves from earlier – Stacks was getting better with his artificial gene – and to Jamie’s relief, his best friend welcomed him wearing the faded jeans and oversized T-shirt he preferred when off-duty. Jamie suppressed a near-hysterical giggle because he realized he’d been ridiculous. Stacks wouldn’t war that leather… strap… harness thingy at home, and even less would he show himself through an open door, clad in a few strips of leather and a pair of nipple clamps only.

In fact, everything was exactly as it used to be whenever they hung out together. Which only made the whole situation even more awkward.

They sat on Stacks’ narrow cot, nursing a couple of beers and chatting about the usual weirdness that was life in the Pegasus galaxy. Like always. But after a while, the pauses between topics grew gradually longer, until they fell silent altogether.

Of course Jamie was the first to break that silence. He could never out-stubborn Stacks; that was a constant that had irked him since their childhood, but one he couldn’t change.

“ _Adam_ ,” he said quietly, calling his best friend by his given name for the very first time. Stacks hated his name and Jamie had respected that. Now, however, they were about to break new ground.

Adam seemed to understand the meaning of the different approach because he nodded. He would never be the old Stacks for Jamie again, not after tonight, no matter what course things between them would take. It was only proper to drop that old, familiar nickname; at least until they were able to re-establish their friendship. If ever.

“Jamie,” he said simply. Nothing more.

Jamie lowered his head, accepting the fact that the ball was now in his court. That was a first. Up until now, he’d usually followed Stacks’ lead. But this man here, with the appearance of his best friend, was an unknown quality for him, so there needed some new rules to be laid down.

“What are we… where are we going from here?” he asked. It wasn’t the best start, but they had to start somewhere.

“I really dunno,” Adam replied. “It’s up to you. Where do you want to go?”

“I haven’t got the faintest idea,” Jamie admitted. “I’m scared shitless, Adam. I don’t wanna lose you, but..”

“You won’t,” Adam stated simply. “I’m always gonna be here for you.”

“No matter what?” Jamie asked in a rather child-like manner, but Adam didn’t laugh.

“No matter what,” he said. “You know me.”

“Do I?” Jamie asked quietly. “I _thought_ I’d know you. After that… _thing_ with Bates, I’m not so sure anymore.”

“Aw, c’mon, Jamie! I’m still the guy I’ve always been!”

“Perhaps you are,” Jamie said slowly. “In that case, though, I’ve _never_ really known you.”

Adam sighed. He’d known this wasn’t going to be an easy discussion. Jamie wasn’t simply shocked or disgusted. He was clearly hurt and off-balance. His previously hale and well-ordered world had been thoroughly crashed and he didn’t seem to know how to put the places back together.

Jamie didn’t know yet that those pieces could be rearranged to a completely new pattern. It was Adam’s job to make him see the possibilities… and it seemed that the task would be complicated, to put it mildly.

“Jamie,” he said patiently. “I’m not that different from the guy you’ve known all your life. That… _thing_ , as you call it, is just a… a coping mechanism.”

“How long?” Jamie asked tonelessly.

“How long have I been Gene’s sub or how long have I been into kinky stuff?” Adam tried to specialize.

“Both,” Jamie said.

“I’ve been in Gene’s care for about two years by now,” Adam said. “I’ve discovered my… kinky side right after boot camp. And let me tell you, I was lucky to find Gene. Before him, I went to anonymous fetish parties in S&M clubs… it wasn’t always pleasant, and it was often risky. But this is an itch that needs to be scratched time and again for me to keep going. I haven’t sought it out, you know. It just… emerged, after a while.”

Jamie nodded and digested the additional information for a while. Adam could almost see the wheels turn in his head.

“Why have you never said anything?” he finally asked, hurt feelings now clearly mirrored on his face, audible in his voice.

Adam sighed. “Honestly? I was scared. You have always been like a brother to me, but you were also so young and naïve. Would you have accepted it, at home, without the unusual circumstances we have here?”

Jamie shrugged. “I dunno. And we’ll never know now, will we?”

“No, we won’t,” Adam tentatively reached out to touch Jamie’s face. “Are you mad at me?”

“Nah,” Jamie said, holding his head very still. “I just wish you’d have trusted me. I thought we were friends.”

“We were… we _are_. And I do trust you,” Adam replied. “I just… I was afraid to lose you. Not everyone can deal with… with _this_. I know it’s a lot to swallow for everyone who doesn’t have the same… urges. There was a strong probability that you’d be so grossed out that you’d run away and never return.”

“Perhaps,” Jamie said. “Perhaps I _would_ have run away, screaming. I can’t say in hindsight how I might have reacted, honestly. But Adam, you took that chance from me. You didn’t have the right to that. I deserve to make my own choices.”

“I know,” Adam moved his thumb carefully in a light caress across Jamie’s soft lips. “I’m sorry. Can I make up to you somehow?”

Jamie turned his head away in clear refusal. “I… I’ll have to think about this.”

“Of course,” Adam nodded. His shoulders slumped. “Jamie, I… I’m really sorry.”

For a while neither of them spoke. Finally Jamie looked up again.

“Bates meant you’d let him beat your ass, just for the heck of it. Is that right?”

“Uh-huh,” Adam shrugged and reddened a little. “I get off on that sort of stuff… a good spanking can be very… stimulating.”

Jamie blushed, too. This whole discussion was so… awkward, so out of his league, just like that horrifying evening a few days ago… and yet, he couldn’t hold back his morbid curiosity.

“What… what is it like?” he blurted out.

Adam shook his head. “I can’t tell you. It’s different for everyone. If you wanna know how it feels, you’ll have to try it for yourself.”

“If you think I’m gonna bare my ass for Bates you’re crazy,” Jamie scowled. “I’m _curious_ , not stupid, as Tiner would say.”

Adam flashed him a broad grin. “What about me?”

“ _What_ about you?” Jamie demanded, now completely fed up with Adam’s games. Adam raised a suggestive eyebrow.

“Would you bare your ass for _me_? I can show you what a nice, hot spanking is like. Not for punishment, just for a little fun.”

For a moment, Jamie stared at him in shock, his mouth agape. What Adam suggested was outrageous… but also an incredible turn-on. Memories of Adam lying butt-naked across Bates’ lap flashed up in his mind. He remembered how hot that sight had been, remembered the absolute trust Adam had shown towards his _master_ , and the obvious pleasure Adam had taken from his punishment, despite the very real pain.

And in that moment Jamie knew that he’d do it. This was something he simply _had_ to try out for himself, if he ever wanted to understand his friend again.

“Fine,” he scowled, cursing his fair skin that made him blush so easily; he must have been beet red by now. “I’ll do it. So, what are you gonna use on me? Your belt? Your slipper? A whip?”

“Nah,” Adam replied with a wicked grin. “My hairbrush.”

“Your _hairbrush_?”

“Yep. It’s better than a paddle… for beginners anyway. Smooth and hard, but with a short hilt. It’s gonna warm up your ass in no time.”

“And what then? What when I’m warmed up?”

“ _Then_ I’ll cool you down again,” Adam grinned. “You’ll like it. A lot. And I know _I’m_ gonna enjoy it very much.”

“Are we doing this for you or for me?” Jamie grumbled, but his dick twitched in joyful anticipation already. That perverted piece of flesh was making him do things he’d never do otherwise, and what had he always thought of people who let themselves be led by their dicks?

“For us both,” Adam replied, and that thought made Jamie Jr. twitch again. “Now, drop your pants!”

“W-what?” Jamie stuttered, slightly startled by the abrupt change of his friend’s tone.

Stacks produced what they used to call ‘the Vulcan eyebrow’ in their shared youth. “You didn’t think I’d spank you through your pants, did you?”

“N-no,” Jamie replied. Stacks – _Adam_ – had unconsciously assumed an air of authority that he usually only showed during difficult missions.

He was _in charge_. And that proved to be quite the turn-on. It also gave Jamie a strange feeling of safety. With Adam in charge, things never went wrong.

Jamie’s hands trembled as he opened his pants and pushed them down to his ankles.

“Briefs, too,” Adam ordered. “And everything else.”

After a brief hesitation, Jamie obeyed. He felt horribly exposed. Not that they hadn’t seen each other naked before – that had happened frequently. In shower rooms at school, in boot camp and everywhere in the military. The Corps wasn’t exactly a place of privacy. There had always been plenty of opportunity to catch a glimpse, had they ever wanted.

They had _not_. Never _before_.

Now, however, Adam was blatantly seizing him up… and scowling.

“You’re still way too skinny, Jamie,” he said, stroking a prominent hipbone gently.

Jamie pulled a wry face. “Well, I nearly starved to death a couple of weeks ago, in case you’ve forgotten,” he riposted.

“And you don’t eat nearly enough,” Adam said.

Jamie shrugged. “I’ve tried. I just can’t. My stomach seems to have shrunk or whatnot. And everything still tastes… funny.”

In fact, he frequently threw up his food afterwards, but he was not going to tell his CO _that_. Not even if said CO happened to be his best friend.

“Work on it,” Stacks said seriously, and for a moment, he was the old Stacks again, the one who used to look after Jamie all their lives, not this… this _stranger_ who, quite frankly, scared him. “You gotta get used to eat regularly again. And to sleep.”

Jamie shot him an alarmed look. “How do you know…?”

Stacks looked back at him with fond exasperation. “Jamie, when did I _not_ know how many hours exactly had you slept the previous right? The rings under your eyes tell me that you haven’t slept more than three or four hours a night recently. Am I right?”

Jamie lowered his head. “Two hours, actually. Then the nightmares start, and I wake up, screaming. Then I fall asleep from exhaustion, and everything begins anew. I have at least two rounds each night.”

“Oh, Jamie,” Stacks hugged him and stroked his hair gently. “I know it was bad, but I didn’t know it was _this_ bad. What do you dream of?”

“Mostly the ocean… how we were floating in that piece of wrack… the thirst… the hunger… and Smithy’s eyes, as he slowly lost it…”

Stacks patted his back soothingly. “Why haven’t you spoken about it?”

“To whom?” Jamie shot back. “They’d just send me to Dr. Heightmeyer, and you know I won’t go to shrinks. Not even if they’re hot babes.”

Of course Stacks knew. Mrs. Markham’s well meant but ill-conceived idea of Jamie needing therapy when he’d run off to join the Corps hadn’t passed without causing some damage.

“You could have told me about it,” Stacks said, with just a little accusation in his voice. Jamie sniffled.

“I know, Stacks. It’s just… so hard to bear. It was bad enough to watch Smithy lose his mind, one piece a day, and die… but to relive it every night… Do you know he tried to kill me? To throw me off that fucking wrack? His eyes… there was nothing human in his eyes anymore…”

“How could I know it?” Stacks shook his head, a little irritated now. “You never said a word. So, how did you escape him?”

Jamie turned his face to bury it in his friend’s shoulder. “I didn’t have to,” his voice sounded muffled. “He was already too weak.”

Which sounded horrible and ridiculous at the same time, because Smithy had been twice Jamie’s size and could have smeared Jamie on the wall like a fly. When he hadn’t been starved, dehydrated and quite crazy, that is.

Stacks hugged Jamie closer in a desperate attempt to help somehow, although he knew that it was beyond his strength. He waited patiently until Jamie’s shaking calmed down a bit.

“Jamie, do you really want to go through this… exercise?” he asked gently. Jamie nodded, pressing his face deeper into Adam’s shoulder.

“I wanna understand, Stacks… to feel what you feel when you go to Bates… or to those other people. Maybe if I like it, too, I can understand you again.”

“It’s gonna hurt,” Stacks warned him.

“I don’t care,” Jamie murmured. “You’re all I have.”

“You do have me,” Stacks said. “You don’t have to do this to keep me… whatever way you’d want me.”

“Yes, I do,” Jamie said. “If I don’t understand what makes you tick – well, the side of you I never knew before – there’s always gonna be something between us… a barrier. We’d grow apart, become strangers to each other. I… I don’t think I could bear _that_.”

Stacks understood. Despite quitting school way too early, Jamie was a smart guy, real smart. In order to accept things, he needed to understand them. And apparently, he was willing to accept this new Adam… but only on his own terms.

“All right,” Stacks said, “but you know I can’t go easy on you. That would make the whole exercise pointless.”

Jamie nodded. “Just do it,” he mumbled.

Adam took his hand and led him to his cot again.

“C’mon, lay across my lap,” he said, patting his knee. Jamie stared at him with wide eyes.

“Aren’t you taking off your clothes, too?” he asked.

“Nah,” Adam replied with a wicked grin. “Where would be the fun in _that_?”

Jamie allowed Adam to arrange him across his lap, placing Jamie’s most… vulnerable parts between his slightly parted thighs and placing a pillow so that Jamie could rest his head on it comfortably. Jamie suppressed a whimper. He felt so vulnerable like that, his bare ass up in the air, with Adam still fully clothed, and when Adam unexpectedly closed his thighs, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbed against Jamie’s dick in a disturbingly exciting manner.

Adam leaned forward to take his hairbrush from the drawer of his nightstand. It was a relatively large piece, made of dark, polished wood, with a flat back and a long handle… ideal for the purpose he was going to use it for. His granddad, whom it had once belonged, would probably turn in his grave, but Adam really didn’t care about it right now.

With his free hand, he traced Jamie’s way too prominent ribs in concern. They were too visible, as well as his spine, each vertebrae clearly outlined under the pale skin. Adam thoughtfully dragged the back of the hairbrush across the fleshiest part of Jamie’s ass, finding it still too scrawny for his liking. Jamie used to have a small but firm ass… he had not gained back half the weight he’d lost yet.

“Don’t play with me!” Jamie growled through gritted teeth.

Adam grinned involuntarily. He’d have loved to play with Jamie for a while, but he knew that for them to get there – if ever – he had to do _this_ first. Even if he hated the thought of causing his friend any pain. Jamie needed to know what this felt like, and what Jamie needed, Adam would give him.

He sighed and brought the smooth back of the hairbrush down on Jamie’s backside. He tried to hit the best-padded part of that way too small bottom, so that the slap would have a satisfying sting but wouldn’t cause serious bruising. Jamie jumped slightly in response but didn’t give any noise. Adam closed his eyes for a moment, then repeated the movement.

Jamie flinched again, but he had to admit that it didn’t really hurt… well, not yet, anyway. It stung, surely, but he found that he actually liked the warmth that spread from slowly but steadily from his ass to his other private parts, now trapped between Adam’s thighs, with each new slap. He fell into Adam’s rhythm without realizing it, rubbing his now definitely very interested dick against Adam’s jeans – when the rhythm suddenly changed. The hairbrush came down really hard now, slapping him in a manner that really hurt now, and he couldn’t help wriggling. Adam placed a gentle but firm hand on the small of his back, holding him still, and kept spanking him, hard and fast.

There was nothing exciting in it anymore, it hurt like a bitch, and who would have thought that a small item like a hairbrush could cause so much pain? But he could feel Adam’s solid presence underneath him, the warmth of his strong body, and even though it was Adam’s hand that caused the pain, he felt strangely safe. Tears that he had forced back ruthlessly ever since his rescue now broke through the crumbling walls of his resistance, and he clawed his fists into the pillow, deep, wracking sobs shaking his entire body, not even realizing that the spanking had come to an end and Adam was now stroking his abused skin with feather-like touches.

Adam lifted him as if he were but a child, hugging him close again, and allowed him to finally cry all those unshed tears that had been suffocating him for weeks. After what seemed to be a very long time, Jamie finally ran out of tears and just stood there, butt-naked, safely enveloped in Adam’s arms, his sore ass glowing like a naquadah reactor on overload, still hiccupping a little.

“Was it what you’d expected?” Adam asked quietly.

Jamie shrugged and sniffled.

“I dunno. It sure hurt a lot, but,” he ground his half-hard dick against Adam’s denim-covered groin, “It was also hot, somehow. So,” he added bravely, “what comes next if we go with the program? Are you gonna fuck me now?”

Adam laughed and kissed him.

“Nah, that’s another lesson, for another time,” he said. I’m gonna cool you down and spoil you a bit. Get on the bed, on you belly, and let me take a good look at you.”

Jamie blushed – it was ridiculous, really, after all they had already done, but he couldn’t help it. He climbed onto Adam’s bed, face down, and stretched out gingerly, trembling with anticipation. Was Adam going to treat his bottom with that ‘horse salve’ now? That wouldn’t be too bad…

“Spread your legs a little,” Adam murmured.

Jamie obeyed, feeling the bed dip behind him, and Adam’s fingers ghosting across his hot buttocks, followed by a warm, wet tongue, tracing the red marks on his skin, interspersed with small bites that hurt a little, granted, but in a good way. He squirmed a bit in delight, but tensed up again when he felt his cheeks being pulled apart.

He knew that part would come, after all, Bates had made him do it to Stacks, and _that_ had been embarrassing enough, not to mention gross, and sick, and mostly gross… And he _had_ cleaned his rear end very thoroughly before coming to Adam, just in case. But Adam hadn’t spread slave over his ass, Instead, Adam had given his burning rear a thorough tongue bath, but that had been just skin, and that was different, wasn’t it? Adam wouldn’t do _that_ with his tongue, would he?

He almost jumped off the bed when Adam’s tongue began exploring his most hidden and private parts, but strong hands held his hips firmly, immobilizing him with great efficiency. Adam had always been so much stronger, no amount of exercise and training could change that.

Jamie buckled, at the exact moment when Adam aimed at his ultimate goal, and in that moment, Jamie’s body was breached by something wet and warm and… oh, _long_ , and it was so sick and so gross and so _wrong_ , but oh, did it feel good, better than anything he’d ever felt _there_ , and most definitely a lot better than his own fingers…

Jamie groaned, he was so hard already that it hurt. He tried to rub himself against the bed, which caused the exquisitely decadent feelings to stop, and he got a hard slap on his tortured ass.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Adam growled. “Not after I’ve waited for this all the time. Roll onto your side, facing outwards!”

Jamie obeyed, and before he knew what was happening to him, Adam went down on him, expertly and gleefully. Simultaneously, two slick fingers breached him again, going for the kill unerringly.

He broke within seconds, with Adam working him, front and back, mercilessly, until he rode out what was probably the most violent climax of his young life. And while that thought of his best friend doing this to him was still more than a little uncomfortable, he had to admit that Adam really knew what he was doing.

Besides, _thinking_ wasn’t his top priority at the moment.

“Feeling better?” Adam asked with a low chuckle, washing his groin with a damp towel.

“Uh-huh,” Jamie murmured eloquently. He couldn’t remember Adam leaving his side for the bathroom. He must have passed out for a moment.

Adam laughed and kissed him. “Good. Glad to be of service.”

Adam’s breath smelled of mint. Strange. They hadn’t gotten their hands on any chewing gum for ages.

An eternity later, his befuddled brain provided him with other possible sources of that smell.

“You brushed your teeth?” he asked vaguely.

He didn’t know why would he find that surprising, but for some reason, he did.

Adam shrugged. “Just washed out my mouth. Not everybody likes their own taste, and I wanted to kiss you again.”

“Uh-huh,” Jamie mumbled sleepily. He felt so wonderful warm and heavy and safe, even though his ass still hurt, and it was unfair to leave Adam to his own devices after all that he’d done, but Jamie couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. “Sleepy now…”

He felt Adam, still fully clothed, spoon up against his back, and those strong arms envelop him into a safe embrace again.

“Sleep then,” his friend murmured, “you need it badly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m planning to write the story of Markham’s rescue one day, in all its gory details. Just don’t ask me when that will happen.


	3. Closure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final piece of the Bates/Stackhouse/Markham story arc. The individual Marines of Bates’ team are nameless extras from SGA's Season One whom I gave names.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
 **CLOSURE**

The next couple of days were a little awkward. It was a good thing that they didn’t have any off-world missions, because they were both quite preoccupied, trying to cope with the dramatic changes in their friendship. Redefining something that had worked wall a certain way for so long was never easy, and they were still afraid that they might have ruined everything.

So they back-pedalled al little, sticking to ‘high school stuff’, as Stacks called it (not that they’d have done anything like that in high school, not with each other anyway, and Jamie definitely never before with another guy), like kissing and groping. Still afraid to take it a step further, because that would have been irrevocable.

As they had always been close, the other Marines didn’t seem to have noticed anything. Sure, Bates knew, but that was a given, from square one on. Doctors Grodin and Zelenka gave them funny looks sometimes, and they giggled a lot in their presence, but everyone knew that doctors Grodin and Zelenka fucked like rabbits in their nonexistent spare time (meaning: whenever Dr. McKay was off-planet), so they had no right to make fun of other guys.

Especially since – not being Americans or military personnel – they had the right to do so legally, whenever they wanted. Which was unfair, but so was life in general, and Jamie and Adam couldn’t care less for the doctors’ opinion.

They might have pussyfooted around each other a lot longer, had Colonel Sheppard’s team not nearly gotten killed on Olesia. Of course, Colonel Sheppard’s team always managed to end up places where the natives – or some abandoned Ancient tech – was all too eager to kill them. It wasn't without a reason that no-one would volunteer to step into Lieutenant Ford’s place in the lead team. People with suicidal tendencies didn’t make it in the Marine Corps.

Fortunately, the arrival of Tarzan the Ape – erm, Specialist Ronon Dex – solved the problem to mutual satisfaction. No other team leader had to deal with the oversized barbarian, and no Marine had to go on suicidal missions under the command of an Air Force colonel with delusions of godhood and the biggest libido since James T. Kirk.

But it was a close call, even a careful and experienced SGC veteran like Major Lorne would have bitten out his teeth on it, and _that_ fact reminded Adam and Jamie that they didn’t have all the time in the world. That next time it could be them, walking into a trap. And that one day that trap might _not_ have a back door.

They didn’t need to discuss it at any length, to make arrangements in advance. They’d known each other far too long and far too well for that. Mission debriefing was barely over when they were walking to Adam’s quarters already, to make that one final step after which there would be no way back anymore.

Adam didn’t ask one last time whether Jamie was sure about this or not. There was no need, for that or for any other words. Soundlessly did they discard their sweat-soaked clothes – the planet they’d just visited wasn’t a particularly dangerous but a very hot one – and Adam glanced briefly towards the bathroom.

“Shower?” he asked.

Jamie shook his head. “Later,” he said. “Afterwards,” he added, as some sort of explanation.

Adam nodded wordlessly, and then they were kissing, in a graceless and hurried manner, with the only goal to get as close to each other as possible. Bare skin slid against bare skin, with Jamie pinned against the wall, raspy cheeks were rubbed against sensitive places on neck and under the chin, eager hands explored formerly forbidden areas with desperate urgency.

Somehow they ended up on Adam’s cot, lying side by side, facing each other. Jamie was flushed and nervous, perhaps even a little frightened, and so very adorable, hovering between fear and excitement, willing to take everything Adam would give him.

So trusting. So completely devoted. Adam felt his chest tightening just by the sight of those wide eyes. He swore fervently that he’d never violate that trust. He still felt a little guilty for lusting after his best friend, but he had come to understand some time ago that what he felt was more than lust.

He didn’t dare to give those feelings a name yet. He wondered if he ever would.

But there would be time enough for defining their new relationship later. Right now, he had Jamie in his bed, something he’d been fantasizing about since that night in Iraq, and he was determined to make Jamie’s first time with another guy as pleasurable as possible.

Hell, he wanted Jamie to enjoy it enough to come back for more.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *   
“Meet me in the mess hall, an hour after dinner time,” Stacks said Jamie, returning from yet another remote backward planet, two days after they’d done the deed.

“In the _mess hall_?” Jamie all but squealed. He was still getting to terms with the new situation, still mortified that they might be found out.

Stacks swatted his biceps. “Get your mind out of the gutter. Gene’s unit is having their weekly drink feast, and we’ve been invited.”

“What for?” Jamie asked in suspicion.

Stacks shrugged. “Dunno. But I guess the guys wanna hear about Smithy.”

Jamie stiffened. “Stack, I… I dunno if I can speak about _that_.”

“You already have,” Stacks pointed out. “You told me all about it.”

“Not _all_ about it,” Jamie replied, his jaw set. “Besides, that was different.”

Stacks nodded. “I know. And you don’t _have_ to tell them anything if you don’t feel up to it. But I think it would be good for you.”

“ _Good_ ,” Jamie repeated testily. “What makes you think it would be _good_ for me to tell Smithy’s unit how he’s lost it and died a miserable, undignified death?”

“Because they _were_ Smithy’s unit, his family,” Stacks replied simply. “You’re ravaged by survivor’s guilt, Jamie, and I can’t help you with that. Smithy’s unit – and Gene in particular – might.”

“Really,” Jamie said snippishly. “And how?”

Stacks kissed him lightly on the cheek.

“You feel guilty because you survived and Smithy didn’t. You know that won’t go away without help. Now, you can tell to Dr. Heightmeyer about it…”

“No way in seven hells!”

“… or you can speak to Smithy’s friends. And if you wanna make amends, well, Gene can help you with _that_ , too.”

“Why are you obsessed with having my hide tanned by Bates?” Jamie scowled. Stacks sighed.

“You know I don’t. But let’s face it, the only time you were willing – or able – to speak about what happened, was after I’d spanked you. And you _did_ feel better afterwards, didn’t you?”

Jamie shrugged. He _had_ felt better, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Stacks slid warm fingers up the nape of his neck and into his hair, massaging his scalp.

“It’s your decision,” he said, coming up for air after a long, deep-tongued kiss. “I’d never make you do anything you don’t want to do. But I really think we should meet Gene’s unit tonight. Think about it: it would mean a great deal for the guys, even if you couldn’t bring up the strength to tell them everything.”

“All right,” Jamie murmured, burying his face in the crook between Stacks’ neck and shoulder. “I’ll go. But I can’t promise anything.”

Stacks patted his butt lovingly. “That’s the spirit. All I ask is that you give it a try.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
And so they were sitting together in the mess hall a few hours later. Bates was there, of course, and McKinney and Rickman, and Teague and Toussaint, and Yamato... all the guys of the first hour, the ones that had been on the team with Smithy under the command of Colonel Sumner already.

All the ones that had faced the Wraith first on Athosia.

Doctors Brown and Kavanagh, however, who sometimes accompanied the unit, whenever local plant life or some obscure piece of Ancient tech needed closer examination, or Dr. Corrigan, their anthropologist, were suspiciously absent, although they nominally belonged to the team.

“No outsiders tonight,” Bates replied to the unspoken questions. “Just us.”

Which was fine with Adam and Jamie, because the Corps was family, end even though they both were rather fond of the resolute Dr. Simpson (hey, she was an Army brat and a crack shot, after all) who was assigned to their team occasionally, _this_ was an event where outsiders had no place.

McKinney, who’d nearly lost an eye in Afghanistan and had been called ‘the one-eyed sheriff’ ever since, due to the eye-patch he’d had to wear for months afterwards, not to mention his startling resemblance to John Wayne, brought forth the beer bottles and pushed one in every outstretched hand. It was good, honest American beer, not the disgusting brew the Athosians called ale. The _Daedalus_ had brought ample supplies – well, actually it was Lieutenant Cadman who’d organized the unofficial supply line, but that was beside the point. The point was that – for the first time in ages – they had proper beer again.

And Smithy, a good man of the first hour, wasn’t among them to enjoy it. Not anymore.

They drank slowly, trying to make the experience last as long as possible, because there was nothing like sharing a couple of beers after a difficult mission. But their circle was strangely quiet, and their eyes downcast, and after a while Jamie couldn’t bear the silence any longer, because dammit, this was a criminal waste of good beer… and because Smithy really deserved better.

“Erm, guys,” he said, clearing his throat, “the thing is, I barely knew Smithy at all. Can you tell me something about him? I’d like to know what kind of guy was he.”

The Marines exchanged thoughtful looks.

“Well, he was from North-California, for starters,” McKinney shrugged. “He has a twin brother… just as big and ugly as Smithy was, but he’s not in the Corps. Is some sort of flight attendant at an airport or so.”

“They both like… _liked_ to surf,” Toussaint added, “but they weren’t very close. Smithy always said that the team was his true family.”

“Their Dad came back a leg shorter from Vietnam,” Rickman supplied. “Did surprisingly well, though. Still has a pool service, I think.”

“Smithy was a good Marine and a good friend,” Bates said quietly. “Not the brightest candle in the church, but he didn’t need to be. He was a jarhead, like the rest of us. His job was to spring out choppers and kill what his CO had pointed at. He did exactly _that_ , and he did it well. There’s not one here whose bacon he wouldn’t have pulled out of the fire, at least once. Including myself. _And_ he was tough as nails. So, what the guys would like to know is: how come that he didn’t survive while _you_ did?”

“I haven’t got a clue,” Jamie admitted.

“Tell us what happened,” Bates ordered, and Jamie knew he couldn’t refuse. If he wanted this particular team to trust him again, he had to speak.”

“You know how we set off to hunt that Wraith dart down,” he began, addressing Bates, who nodded. “I remember hearing the lieutenant yell at Dr. Beckett… he was really mean to the doc, but he had to, I guess, cuz’ the doc was really panicking. I’m not sure what happened to them. I had to focus on flying, Dr. Z had warned me that Jumper 4 had been sluggish, but it was the first one I could snatch from the bay. I was trying to cut off the escape of the dart, and that was when we got hit…”

“I know,” Bates said grimly. “I saw you go down. We all thought the jumper had exploded and you were dead. Both of you.”

“Well, the jumper _had_ exploded,” Jamie shrugged, “but it seems that in the case of an emergency it blows off the cockpit like an escape pod. The explosion threw us very far off-course, though, and we hit the water real hard…. With inertial dampeners no longer functioning and all…”

McKinney gave him a suspicious look. “Where have you learned things like that?”

“Dr. Z showed me a few tricks,” Jamie almost apologized. “He said I needed to know how to make basic repairs, just in case. And a good thing it was, ‘cuz otherwise we’d have sunk to the bottom of the ocean like a stone. But I managed to activate the floating function of the pod, so that we stayed _on_ the water instead.”

Bates nodded. “I heard the geeks retrieved the pod from where it was washed ashore. It’s still intact… more or less.”

“Yeah, the actual problem was that we didn’t have food or water, not very much anyway, and land was nowhere in sight,” Jamie said. “I managed to make the board instruments aim at the mainland, but some of them were damaged, and we couldn’t know how far it was. Also, the pod had no propulsion of its own, at least none that I could recognize – we were practically floating on the sea, and we could only hope and pray that at least our bearing was right.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t suffocated after a couple of days,” Teague, a technician by trade, said. “A jumper has a closed environmental system; after all, it’s supposed to fly in space.”

“Erm, that was pure luck,” Jamie admitted. “I stumbled over a function that could open the upper part of the pod like the top of a corvette. We used it as a boat.”

“That saved your life,” Teague nodded.

“Well, yes, but it wasn’t all that pleasant,” Jamie said. “Do you have an idea how harsh the sunlight over the ocean is? We both had sunburns on the first day and looked like cooked crabs – Smithy was fair-skinned, too. We had blisters all over us, and they _hurt_!”

Stacks grinned. “Nobody burns more easily in the sun than you, Jamie!”

“I didn’t _choose_ to have such stupid skin, you know,” Jamie glared at him. “Besides, Smithy didn’t look much better… and he suffered from thirst a lot more than I did.”

“Oh, yeah,” Rickman nodded. “And I bet he missed his ‘special supplies’, too. They could kill one’s appetite by merely watching him stuffing that shit into his mouth.”

“Withdrawal must have been hell on him,” Toussaint added, grinning humourlessly. Smithy might have been a jerk and a health fanatic, but he’d been _their_ jerk.

“In any case, he dried out much faster than I did,” Jamie said. “And he couldn’t bear the thirst anymore, he started drinking sea water.”

“Which made everything worse,” Teague supplied, understanding.

Jamie lowered his head. “The thirst drove him mad. It was a horrible sight, to watch him. I wasn’t exactly lucid myself, but the sea water really drove him crazy. I still don’t know how long we were floating before the sea washed us ashore. We ran out of MREs and desalination pills on the fourth day, and from that day on, it was one ongoing nightmare.”

“You told me Smithy tried to toss you out of the pod,” Stacks reminded him quietly. Jamie nodded.

“He thought I’d hide water from him.”

“Have you?” McKinney asked challengingly.

Jamie gave him a short bark of laughter. “By that time, we hadn’t had any water for at least two days. We were drinking our piss to avoid total dehydration. Luckily for me, Smithy was already too weakened to do me any harm. I wouldn’t have stood a chance against him, had he half of his strength still.”

That was very true, and the team knew it. Markham wasn’t exactly scrawny, but Smithy had been like a walk-in closet. He could have snapped Markham’s neck like a dry twig, without breaking a sweat. Well, _before_.

“What happened after you’d been washed ashore?” Bates asked quietly. Jamie frowned.

“I’m not sure. I was fairly crazy by then, too. Somehow we must have managed to crawl out of the pod and into the nearby woods. We were desperate to find water and something to eat. We went our separate ways… I guess neither of us wanted to share whatever we might find,” he added, ashamed.

“What _did_ you find?” Toussaint, one of the few survivors of a mission gone horribly wrong somewhere in Central America – so covert that he didn’t even dare to speak about it to his own team – asked curiously. If anyone, he knew what surviving in a foreign jungle might cost.

“Berries,” Jamie shrugged. “Mushrooms. Tree-bark. Bugs, even. There were small rodents, too, but way too fast for us to catch… well, for _me_ , anyway. I don’t know what Smithy might have found. The Athosian hunters say he gotta have eaten something that didn’t agree with him, ‘cuz he was frothing from the mouth when they found him… barely alive at all. He died the next day after we’d been found. The Athosians performed some sort of ceremony and marked the place where he’s buried. And that’s all I can tell you. I was more than a little delirious at that time already.”

“Why didn’t the Athosians retrieve his body?” McKinney scowled.

“They had to carry _me_ , for starters, and that slowed them down more than enough,” Jamie replied. “I’m told that I couldn’t even tell them my name, and was fighting them all the time. Only when we reached the Athosian settlement did Halling recognize me, and that was when they called Atlantis. The others never had that much contact with any of us.”

“Nor would they ever, if I have a say in it,” McKinney growled.

Bates gave him ‘The Look’. The one that made people feel like they were taken apart alive, piece by piece, so that Bates could see what made them tick. Battle-hardened veterans were known to have nightmares after encountering ‘The Look’.

“Luckily for us, you haven’t,” Bates said coldly. He wasn’t necessarily a fan of the Athosians, either, but it wasn’t McKinney’s job to decide how things were done. “Can you show us the place where Smithy is buried?” he then asked Jamie.

Jamie shrugged. “I can try, but frankly, you’d be better off with the Athosian hunters. I didn’t exactly have my wits around me at that time. You wanna bring him back to Atlantis?”

Bates thought about it for a moment, then he shook his head.

“Nah, he’ll probably have a more peaceful rest where he’s now. But we might wanna say our good-byes somewhen.” He looked at his men. “Anyone got more questions?”

The others shook their head.

“Good,” Bates said. “Then we can thank Sergeant Markham for telling us the whole sorry tale and get properly shit-faced to honour Smithy’s memory.”

The suggestion was accepted with general agreement, and the team plus Jamie and Stacks got so drunk in record time it would have put any other team to shame.

It was a good thing that they all had the next day off.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
The next leather party of the _Darkroom_ was scheduled for ten days later. This time, Jamie knew what to expect, and he wore a leather harness similar to the one he’d seen on Adam under his civvies. He carefully referred from asking Adam where it came from. Some things were better left in darkness.

The meeting with Bates’ team had helped him to come to terms with all that had happened. But he’d also come to realize that he needed to make one final step, in order to put his guilty conscience to ease.

He needed to make amends, and there was a simple way to achieve just that.

Simple but not easy, nor pain-free. He knew that, which was the reason why he shivered a little while taking of his clothes in the locker room. Getting playfully spanked by Adam was one thing – and a hot and strangely pleasant thing at that – but he was about to give himself into the hands of a master now. He was about to ask for punishment, so that he’d be able to deal with his guilt.

He knew Bates wouldn’t go easy on him. That was not the point. The point was to wash himself free of that guilt through physical pain. And the fact that Bates, as Smithy’s team leader, was the wronged party – in a sense – made it even more appropriate.

Adam handed him the leather mask wordlessly, and Jamie put it on. It covered the upper half of his face, and though he was still recognizable, that bit of distance proved to be considerable relief.

“Are you ready?” Adam asked softly.

Jamie nodded. He felt terribly exposed, with his private parts barely hidden by the uncomfortable harness. He had no collar, though, as he didn’t _belong_ to Bates – not yet, anyway – and frankly, he was scared shitless.

Not enough to back off, though. He knew he needed this, and every further delay would only make things worse.

Adam nodded encouragingly and took his hand. They entered the fetish room together, holding hands. It was slightly different from the last time – according to Adam, it was never exactly the same – but the tilted leather bench stood in the center again, waiting. Next to the bench stood Bates, frightening and hot as hell in his deep red leathers, his smooth, dark skin gleaming in the artificial torchlight like polished mahogany. He looked like a vengeance demon… or an avenging angel.

He was gorgeous. Jamie felt himself stir by the mere sight of him. And when Bates stepped forward and tapped his chest with the blunt end of the whip, he nearly jumped from his skin.

“What do you want, novice?” Bates asked in a deep, hard voice – not so different from his terse everyday manner, and yet a lot more intimidating.

“I want to make amends,” Jamie replied, his voice barely trembling. Really, someone who didn’t know him well wouldn’t even notice.

Of course, both Adam and Bates _did_ know him all to well, but that couldn’t be helped now. All he could do was to put on a brave face and get through with the whole thing.

“What for?” Bates asked.

“For not being able to save Smithy,” Jamie replied. That earned him a light slash with the whip across his thighs. It was made with a loose wrist and stung more than hurt.

“Wrong answer,” Bates said calmly. “Try again.”

Jamie ducked his head. “For surviving while he had to die,” he admitted.

Bates nodded. “That’s better. There’s one thing you must learn, should you wish to return here in the future: you must always tell the truth when I ask you something. The whole session won’t be any help if you’re not honest to yourself. With guilt, with mistakes, we can deal. But not with denial. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Jamie whispered. Bates gave him a disapproving look.

“Yes _sir_ ,” he barked. “You’re gonna call me _sir_ , whenever you come to my sessions, do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes, sir,” Jamie stuttered. Bates patted him on the bare butt.

“Good boy. Now, listen to me carefully, ‘cuz I’m only gonna explain you things once. Right now, you got two choices. You can take your punishment from me and leave again, no strings attached. You can also return for more, whenever you feel the need for it. Or you can give yourself into my hands completely, so that I can take care of your needs in this particular area in the future. You’d belong to me, just as Adam does. But if you chose _that_ , you’ll hand over your will – and your ass – to me, to do with you as I please. You do understand the difference, I hope.”

“Jamie nodded. “Yes, sir. But do I have to choose right now, right here? Can’t you just punish me and let me think about the rest of it for a while?”

“Of course you can,” Bates replied. “In fact, you need to see first, whether this – what I can give you – really helps. Let’s make a deal. I’m gonna punish you now, and you can think about my offer till the next leather party. But you _will_ give me that answer then. That works for you?”

Jamie nodded and stepped up to the tilted and padded leather bench obediently, stretching out his arms as he’d seen from Adam at that first time. At Bates’ sign, Adam secured the fastenings around Jamie’s wrists and ankles and tightened the strap around his waist. Then he stepped to the side, leaving Jamie to the mercy of the master.

Jamie swallowed. Hard. Now he’d have to bear what he’d asked for. There wouldn’t be any playful spanking as he’d experienced it from Adam’s hand. This would be punishment, designed to hurt seriously.

Designed to free him from his guilt through pain. He only hoped it would work.

“I am ready,” he said, his voice barely quivering.

That earned him a hard slap on his bare ass.

“Have I allowed you to speak?” Bates asked with deceptive mildness.

He shook his head, as well as he could in his awkward position. “N-no.”

“No _what_?” that authoritative voice asked.

“No, sir,” Jamie swallowed again.

“Good boy,” Bates praised, and then his hands were all over Jamie, kneading and loosening tightly knotted muscles in his neck, shoulders and thighs, warming him up for what was to come, so that he wouldn’t be injured.

The first stroke of the whip came so unexpected that Jamie bucked against his restraints and hissed in pain. The thin straps of hard leather, all nine of them, let their own narrow red marks on his fair, easily bruising skin each. It was definitely a lot worse than Adam’s hairbrush had been, the pain sharper, more intense, and Bates didn’t restrain the quick, hard strokes to his ass only. The lashes meticulously covered his entire backside, from his shoulders to the back of his knees, creating a criss-crossing pattern of thin, angry red lines as he increased the speed slightly but constantly.

Adam forced himself to watch. He felt definite compassion for his friend; he knew all too well how Gene’s wicked whip felt on the bare skin. Jamie clung to the rim of the bench, his entire body wracked with tension, and Adam knew Gene wouldn’t stop until he broke that tension, to break loose everything Jamie had closeted away in himself ever since her rescue. All that guilt and fear and darkness needed to get out somehow, and physical pain was an excellent, albeit unpleasant way to achieve that.

Nobody knew that better than Adam, from first-hand experience, no less. Still, it was very hard to watch Jamie suffer, even if it was for his own good.

Bates’ arm moved in an increasing pace, not leaving out an inch of unprotected skin. After a while, Jamie began to whimper, then the whimpers grew into a keening noise and finally turned into harsh sobs that shook his entire body. From that moment on, Bates gradually slowed down, until he stopped altogether. The restraints were loosened. Wincing in pain and still hoarse from the deep, wrecking sobs, Jamie stepped away from the whipping bench, walking straight into Adam’s arms.

“Did it help?” Adam asked quietly, kissing the top of his head. Jamie nodded, burrowing deeper into his friend’s embrace, and sniffled.

“It was… different,” he said, “not like with you. It… it really hurt, Adam.”

“I know,” Adam murmured. “That’s why it’s called punishment. But do you feel any different than before?

Jamie thought about that for a moment.

“Yeah,” he said. “Of course, I hurt all over, but I also feel… cleansed, somehow. You think it’ll last?”

“I don’t know,” Adam admitted. “I never had issues this serious to deal with, and besides, it’s different for anyone.”

“Could you do this for me… if I ever needed again?” Jamie asked.

It was now Adam’s turn to give the matter some thought.

“I dunno,” he finally said. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be capable of deliberately hurt you. Not even for your own good. Bedroom spanking is one thing, but this… I’m not up to the challenge of disciplining and punishing you. Not for a long while yet.” He paused. “You should entrust yourself to Gene in this,” he then added.

Jamie shook his head. “I’m not ready for that. Not yet.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bates said with a strange confidence that was so beyond selfish arrogance as humanly possible. “You’ll get around eventually.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
For a while, there weren’t other leather parties in the _Darkroom_. The Pegasus galaxy kept them too occupied for kinky games – for _any_ games, in fact. Even the official capacity of the _Pegasus Bar_ was left unused for several weeks, mere survival being the most important part for quite some time.

But after the retrieval of him who once had been Lieutenant Ford, Jamie Markham understood that he wouldn’t be able to face the horrors of the Pegasus galaxy without help. Returning to Earth was no option – they’d all changed too much already. To Dr. Heightmeyer he would not go.

So he chose the next best option left to him. He went to Bates and declared his readiness to submit to the master. With all ramifications that came with that decision.

Now there would be no more walls between Stacks and himself. They belonged together. And they both belonged to the same owner, happily and voluntarily, knowing that he would take good care of them.

~The End~


End file.
